


The Earthly Child

by arkylarn



Series: Human!AU Susan Foreman [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 06:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20849150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arkylarn/pseuds/arkylarn
Summary: Stephen Foreman has been acting odd lately, and teachers Ian Chesterton and Barbara Wright have decided to investigate. But the situation isn't as expected, and they have to make a decision: are they going to listen to the old man demanding that they leave, or are they going to stay and help their student?





	The Earthly Child

Ian Chesterton: science teacher extraordinaire! Well, maybe that’s a bit of an over exaggeration. He’s pretty average, really, and he’s okay with that. If he were anything other than average, he probably wouldn’t be teaching at Coal Hill School, and he wouldn’t be as content with his life as he is now.

Ian’s satisfaction has nothing to do with Coal Hill School in particular. He likes it well enough -- the administration is great, and the students are generally pretty respectful, though he has dealt with one or two rascals who tried to push his limits; that just comes with the job -- but there is one thing keeping him here above all else.

Her name is Barbara Wright.

Standing with his back turned to the door, Ian tries not to make it seem like he has been waiting for her. He even fiddles with a couple of test tubes that the students left out after his specific instructions to put them away once they were done, but he doesn’t move to clean or shelf them. She should be here any minute, and he isn’t trying to look too busy to talk to her.

They have developed a sort of informal routine. It started with Barbara coming to his classroom because her coffee machine broke again (it seemed to break rather often, if Ian truly thought about it), then because she needed to borrow something, or because she needed someone to talk to about the school’s new policies. She found an excuse to see him more and more frequently, so much so that lately Ian expects her almost daily. Of course she will preface her visit with one reason or another for needing to visit him, but Ian doesn’t mind. He just likes seeing her.

It’s the same thing today. She’s all in a puff, as if she had been in a rush to get here, though the opposite was true. The last bell rang several minutes ago, and he knows that she doesn’t bring much with her and thus doesn’t have much to pack up at the end of the day. But he does not care about her tardiness -- in fact, he smiles with a small chuckle, shoving all the test tubes into his arms with one swooping gesture as she walks into the classroom.

“Oh? Not gone yet?” he asks as he turns to a cabinet, beginning to file away the recently-cleaned tubes. Honestly, he should probably go back and rewash the tubes -- you can’t trust an eighteen year old to properly scrub it down -- but it was just some nonreactive substance dissolved in water. He isn’t about to drown Barbara out by turning on the loud faucet.

“Obviously not,” she replies incredulously, leaning against a cabinet as she watches Ian put away the supplies. Her tone isn’t hostile -- she finds it hard to have anger sound like anything more than banter when around Ian -- though there is an irritability hidden somewhere in there.

Ian notices it and shrugs, turning to face her with a cheeky grin. “Right, ask a silly question,” he nods, stepping around her toward his desk.

Shaking her head, Barbara follows behind him. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly, adding, “I’ve just had a terrible day. I don’t know what to make of it.”

This is Ian’s specialty. With a calming smile he sits atop his desk, gesturing for Barbara to sit down, too. Leaning forward slightly, he asks, “What’s the trouble? Can I help?”

“Oh, it’s one of the boys -- Stephen Foreman.”

“Really?” Ian asks, though seeing Barbara’s hurt expression at his surprise, he quickly tones it down, “I just mean, he’s rather quiet. I don’t have much trouble with him.”

“That’s exactly it, Ian. He didn’t used to be that way, you know.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, he used to be more outgoing. He would participate in class -- more than any of my other students. I even told him he ought to specialize. But lately, well…”

Ian nods. He supposes that he hadn’t been paying much attention before -- teenagers’ moods seem to change on a whim, after all -- but now that Barbara has pointed it out, he does realize that Stephen’s behavior has been rather odd. “He failed a test last week, and didn’t turn in his homework the other day. I chalked it down to it being close to the end of the year.”

Barbara shakes her head, looking down at the ground and lightly kicking her legs. “No, I don’t think that’s it.” She looks up now, meeting Ian’s eyes. “He didn’t do the assignment last week and I told him if he kept it up I’d have to contact his parents. He basically begged me not to and I told him I’d give him another chance, but then he forgot to turn in his homework today. Said he lost it.” She fails to mention some other things she has noticed; namely that he hasn’t been paying as much attention to his appearance as he seemed to before. She noticed him wearing the same shirt twice in a row around two weeks ago.

“Well, he is a teenager, you know.”

“No, Ian, I don’t think it’s that. -- I’m just worried is all.”

“Worried?” Even attempting to temper it, Ian can’t help the disbelief in his tone. But it is quickly masked by a chuckle and raised brow. “Worried about what? That his grades will go down? It happens to all the teenagers -- they all go through periods of laziness. Anyway, he’s smart enough to go to university right now if he wanted to. The only year eleven in my year thirteen class.”

Barbara bites her lip, considering this. Finally she shoves her hands against the desk, standing up suddenly. She paces a bit as she speaks again. “No, you should have seen his reaction when I told him I was going to talk to his parents. He really didn’t want me to.”

“No kid does.”

“Come on, Ian,” she snaps, glaring at him, “I’m being serious.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ian frowns, waving his hands as he stands up as well.

Barbara pauses, as if hesitating to add what she is about to say. But, unable to hold it in, she relents, speaking quicker than normal. “I decided to go through with it. You know, talking to his parents.”

“And? What were they like?”

“That’s just it. I went up to the house and a couple answered, but they swore up and down that they didn’t know Stephen. I asked if they were John and Raine -- that’s the names that the secretary gave me -- and they said yes, but that they didn’t have a son.”

“Hm. The secretary must have been confused. Maybe there is another Foreman who goes to this school -- a girl.”

“No, I don’t think so. It was the weirdest thing, but I swear they very clearly resembled him.”

“That’s a bit of a mystery,” Ian acknowledges, looking around as he thinks. Then, in a rather noncommittal tone, asks, “Well, what do you suppose is the matter?”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, we’ll have to find out for ourselves, won’t we?”

“Thank you for the ‘we.’” Even if she had been playing it off as if she didn’t know what to do about the matter, Barbara obviously already has a plan in mind. Spinning back to face Ian, she smiles, “I say we follow him home, see where he goes.”

Ian shakes his head, though it isn’t to turn Barbara’s idea down. He just can’t help a laugh at Barbara’s rather headstrong plan.

“That is, unless you’re doing something.”

“No, I’m not,” he replies, then glancing down at his watch, “But I’m sure he’s already left. We should do it tomorrow.”

“He hasn’t. I told him I want him to do an extra assignment for me to make up for everything he’s missing. He’s waiting in one of the classrooms. I’m lending him a book on the French Revolution.”

“Oh, alright.”

\---

“Too many questions and not enough answers.”

Ian can’t help but feel a bit creepy, having followed Stephen (though at a considerable distance) for a while now. Yet, as he glances over at Barbara, he is reassured by the determined glint in her eyes. This isn’t just a mystery to her; it is something that she  _ needs  _ to figure out. She has always been a caring person, and seeing Stephen recoil into himself has obviously sparked a caring drive in her. She isn’t just going to let this go -- not until she knows that her student is safe.

“Ian, this is far past his house,” Barbara says, looking over at him and then down the road, “He should have turned a couple street back -- nearer the school. I don’t know where he could possibly be headed.”

Pulling up to a stoplight, Ian takes a moment to consider this.Tilting his head slightly, he hums before asking, “He could be meeting a girl. Didn’t that occur to you?”

“I almost hope he is,” Barbara laughs, though there is that same seriousness in her voice from before. Suddenly she turns her head, leaning forward in her seat, obviously trying to get a better view of something. “He just turned a corner. I think he went into the alley.”

Following Barbara’s gaze, Ian finds the spot where Stephen disappeared. Nodding, he pulls over, parking the car on the side of the road. Staring blankly for a moment, he finally proclaims, “Come on, let’s get it over with,” before opening the door and stepping out. After a moment, he leans back into the car. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Yes,” Barbara says, looking up at him, but she hesitates, “Oh, it’s silly. I’m just a bit worried is all. Don’t you feel it?”

Ian smiles, then lightly closes the door. Quickly he rushes around the car, and opens Barbara’s side, offering his hand to her. “I take things as they come,” he says, pulling her toward him and politely shutting the door. He is careful not to hold her hand for too long, instead looking behind him toward the alley that Stephen had disappeared down. “Now come on. Before we lose him.”

They travel in silence for a few minutes as they make their way side-by-side down the alleyway. The alley is already naturally dark because of the two brick buildings flanking it -- leaving only enough room for the two teachers to walk down it together, except whenever there is a trashcan and they must go in a line -- and it ends at a chain fence. They are quickly at it, as the alley only lasts the length of those two buildings.

Grabbing onto the fence, Barbara shakes it lightly. “Where do you suppose he’s gone, Ian?” she asks as she glances over to him. She then looks up, considering Stephen’s route in her head. “You don’t suppose he climbed it, do you?”

Ian shakes his head. “No, we would have heard it,” he says, rattling the fence louder than Barbara had been, “even when we were at the very end, we would have heard the echoes.”

“Well, what do you think, then?” she asks. There is a confidence in her voice, but Ian sees right through it. He can tell that she is worried -- far more so than before -- but she isn’t just going to give up at this obstacle.

“We can always-” he starts, but pauses suddenly and swivels on his heel back toward the direction they had just come from, “do you hear that?”

“No, what is it?”

“Music…Do, do- Yes, it sounds like something I’ve heard Stephen listening to before,” Ian starts excitedly, pointing in its general direction, “Come on.” He starts down the alley with an excited skip in his step, though he goes slowly so as not to pass it up.

“Stephen!” Barbara starts to call, though it is more like a loud, harsh whisper. She cups her hands around her mouth and starts again, “Stephen!”

“Over here!”

The music’s source becomes obvious as they near it, though it is coming from a place that neither Barbara nor Ian had noticed before, nor would have noticed had it not been for the music. Beside a large dumpster is a red door that blends in quite well with the brick building. There is a small, grimey window to its side, and on the inside the blinds are closed. Obviously the music inside is being played rather loudly.

Sticking her face near the window with only a slight expression of disgust, Barbara tries her hardest to get a peak in despite the closed blinds. “Oh,” she mutters, shrinking down slightly to get a better glimpse, “I can hardly see anything, what with the blinds and the dirt. But there’s some movement, I think.”

Ian moves over, trying to get a glimpse in as well. Eventually he nods and concurs with Barbara. “Yes, there’s definitely someone. Do you think it’s Stephen?”

“It’s got to be.” With that, Barbara steps behind Ian and starts to lightly knock on the door. “Stephen. Stephen, are you in there? It’s Miss Wright and Mister Chesterton from school.”

He obviously doesn’t hear her, and she goes to knock again, louder, but Ian stops her.

“Wait, before we draw any attention to ourselves,  _ why  _ do we think he’s in there? I mean, you met his parents -- or, at least, I think you did -- and this is pretty far removed from that. There might be more going on here than we know about.”

Barbara considers that, and nods, looking around cautiously.

“You’re right, I’ve had enough. Let’s go find a policeman.”

Mentally promising herself that she is going to return as soon as possible, Barbara spins around, starting rather quickly back toward the car. They have to get to a phone, and she’s sure that there is bound to be a police box somewhere up the street. But before she can even get around the dumpster, she stumbles back into Ian, who catches her arms.

“What are you doing here?”

The voice is unfamiliar to either of them, and so is the man himself. In front of Ian and Barbara stands a man who is about Barbara’s height, shabbily dressed in a coat and scarf, carrying a cane though it isn’t entirely obvious whether or not he truly needs it. However, it is obvious that he is annoyed, and he mutters something under his breath about ‘hooligans’ as he waits for either of the teachers to respond.

“Good evening,” Barbara smiles, waving a hand gently, though she quickly drops it when the man doesn’t return any sort of friendly gesture.

“What do you want?” the man repeats, and he pushes past the pair, forcing them to turn the opposite way to face him. His arms are crossed, and he taps on them with impatience.

“We’re looking for a young boy,” Ian starts, standing in front of Barbara consciously. He does not trust this stranger, and he knows that he doesn’t trust them. “One of our pupils, Stephen Foreman, came into this alley.”

The man hums as he considers this, before raising a brow. “One of he- their teachers, hm? Why were you spying on them? Who are you?”

“I should ask the same of you.”

The man guffaws at this, insulted as he brushes his coat and glares at Ian. “I’m someone who is supposed to be here; you’re  _ not _ ,” he spits, “Now I have a very good mind to call someone about you loitering. This is my property, you know.”

“What, the building?” Barbara asks, looking up at the tall brick mass.

The man rolls his eyes, but indicates toward the partially-obscured door that still has loud music leaking out from under it. “This is my house, thus you are trespassing on  _ my  _ property. Now, get out of here; I don’t care who you’re looking for, they’re not anywhere near here.”

Barbara looks up at Ian, and catches his attention. Leaning in as the man starts to turn toward the door, she whispers, “Come on, Ian. We know that Stephen didn’t just disappear. He’s in there. We have to do something; I don’t know who this man is.”

Ian considers this for a moment, looking over Barbara’s head back toward the car. They could go now and deal with this later -- after all, what’s to say that Stephen really is in danger? Sure, this man is a bit eccentric, but that doesn’t mean that Stephen is actually in any harm -- but… But that feels wrong. This all feels wrong. Taking a deep breath, Ian lets go of Barbara and side steps, blocking the man from the red door.

“Young man, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Frankly, I don’t understand your attitude,” Ian starts, making sure to position himself right in front of the door’s lock. He hears the song change from one he knew to a new one that he isn’t sure that he’s heard before, though that is not what he’s focusing on. “We just want to know who you are, because we want to be sure that our student is alright. You understand that don’t you?”

The stranger scoffs, but, in a stubborn tone to match Ian’s, says, “John Smith, but people just call me ‘Doctor.’”

“You’re a medical doctor?” Barbara asks, stepping around the dumpster to join the action.

“No, I have a PhD.”

“Oh, in what?”

“In nothing that concerns you.”

Barbara just shakes her head and joins Ian by the door. She tries to get a glimpse in the windows again, but is met with the same result.

“Will you open the door?” Ian asks, finally moving away from the lock as he looks at John expectantly. Of course, he can do nothing but give a disappointed sigh when the man doesn’t go to help them. “What are you afraid to show us?”

“Afraid? Bah!” John sneers, moving toward the door. He forces his way between the two teachers and turns away from the door, now being the one who is blocking the door’s entrance. “I think you two better leave. I have had enough of this.”

They both go to say something -- to argue with the man’s arrogance -- when a sudden silence meets everyone’s ears. The music that had been playing before has stopped, and Barbara and Ian turn toward the door.

“Grandfather?” they hear from inside, “Is that you out there?” The music picks up pretty soon after that, but Barbara and Ian are given enough time to look at each other with what can only be explained as a mixture of excitement and dread. Reaching behind John’s back, Barbara manages to elbow him away as she tries to turn the handle.

“Oh, it’s locked. But that was Stephen’s voice!” she exclaims, continuing to try to force open the door. Obviously it is made of something heavy, as it barely even budges.

“Of course it was!” Ian concurs, and he starts to knock rather loudly on it as well. “Stephen! Stephen! Stephen, are you in there? It’s Mister Chesterton and Miss Wright, Stephen!”

“Don’t you think you’re being rather high-handed, young man? You thought you saw a child enter this alley. You imagine you heard their voice. You believe they might be inside there. It’s not very substantial, is it?”

“But why won’t you help us?” Barbara asks, exasperated, though she believes that she knows pretty well why not. He’s the one who has Stephen in there after all; even if Stephen called him ‘Grandfather,’ there is more going on here than meets the eye.

“I’m not hindering you. If you both want to make fools of yourselves, I-”

“What are you doing out there?”

The music had died down in the midst of their argument, and John’s loud cough isn’t enough to mask Stephen’s voice. “She is in there!” Ian exclaims, and he goes to push on the door again, but just as he does so it begins to open itself, and both of the teachers are stumbling into the room.

It’s not bad, the room. Small, sure, but not bad. It’s somewhat dark, but someone has strung up some fairy lights across the ceiling. There is a table right under the window with the radio Stephen had been playing his music on (though it is turned off now), a rather dusty chair to the left, and a couch backed against the far wall. All in all, it is rather cramped, and the only light is coming from the fairy lights. Behind the chair, there is an open door, probably to some sort of small kitchen, and behind Stephen there is an open one to a bedroom.

Not that any of that is what is truly noticed.

Once their eyes adjust to the darkness, both of the teacher’s eyes are on Stephen. His eyes are wide with fear, and he has doubled over as if to cover himself, but that doesn’t cover the very obvious fact that he is wearing a dress.

“I believe these people are known to you, Susan.”

Ian continues to stare on in confusion, but Barbara blinks and turns to face John. She tries to give off an air of confident anger -- something along the lines of ‘I know for sure that this is bad, yes, I am very resolved on that matter’ -- but truly she just looks dumbfounded. “Susan?” she asks, pointing back at her, “No, that’s-”

“They’re two of my schoolteachers,” Susan responds quickly, though her voice is rather shaky. If it weren’t for the lighting, her embarrassment would also be evident by how red her face is. “I- I don’t know what they’re doing here.”

“They must have followed you,” John scolds, “That ridiculous school. I knew something like this would happen if we didn’t move soon enough. I told you we should have moved after everything that went down, didn’t I, Susan?”

“Why, yes, but-” She is at a loss for words, and just glances between the two teachers. “But why should they follow me?”

Finally Ian straightens up and, after stepping back toward Barbara, shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s going on here, Stephen, but-”

“You mustn’t call her that!” And suddenly John is very near the couple, looking up at Ian with a fiery expression, “I put up with it out there, but I will not do so here! You either call her the right thing or you-”

“Grandfather, it’s okay,” Susan says, the worry very evident in her voice as she quickly leaps forward, grabbing her grandfather by the arm and trying to wrench him away, “It’s not a big deal, really!”

“It is a big deal, Susan,” John says, turning to her, but before he can add anything else Barbara chimes in.

“Well, what should we call you then?” she asks gently, but, seeing how awkward Susan seems to feel, goes on to say, “Susan?”

“That works,” she nods, then sputters, “I- I mean, it’s what I use. Not at school of course, but…”

Ian shakes his head, obviously having more trouble processing everything than Barbara. “I don’t understand, Stephen-”

“ _ Susan _ ,” Barbara corrects, before John has the chance to hit Ian upside the head with his cane.

“Okay,  _ Susan _ . I don’t understand what you’re doing this all for. Why are you dressed like a girl? And using a different name?”

Susan blushes, hiding behind her grandfather slightly. “Well, it’s all a bit complicated,” she says, though it is quiet -- almost inaudible. She fidgets uncomfortably, but is about to force herself to go on, when Barbara interrupts her.

“Is this really where you live, Susan?”

“Yes.”

John scoffs and turns to Susan, muttering under his breath, “It wouldn’t be, if your parents actually tried to care about something instead of being scared of anything that doesn’t fit their perfect world. You know, I ought to-” He is about to get lost in an angry train of thought before Susan grabs his arms, looking him in the eyes to ask him to stop. He quickly shakes his head, though he grumpily paces behind her for a moment before his attention is drawn back to the history teacher.

“And this is your grandfather?”

“Yes.”

Barbara looks over at Ian, but he doesn’t seem to be following the same thread that she is. Not to worry, hopefully Susan or John will explain it all soon enough. “But --  _ Susan  _ \-- your records say that you are living with your parents. Did something happen?”

“Did something happen?” the Doctor asks incredulously, throwing up his arms. His gaze turns from Barbara to Susan, and he repeats the question with the same amount of sarcasm. Then he looks back at the school teachers, his brows once again furrowed. “You ask too many questions. And now, look what you’ve done. We have to pack up and move, just because you two got curious.”

Finally, Ian’s voice seems to find its strength again, and he retorts with an insulted tone, “We were just following him because we were concerned.” He then pauses, and adds as an afterthought, “Her, sorry.”

Susan nods in acknowledgment of his correction, but John isn’t as forgiving of Ian’s excuse. “Concerned? Pshaw! No, you are exactly what I called you -- hooligans!”

“No, but, it’s true!” Barbara exclaims, jumping forward before the two men can start punching each other. “She started failing both of our classes, so we were worried,” she explains, then turning to Susan, “It’s true, isn’t it, Susan? Have you shown your grandfather your latest assignments?”

Susan lowers her gaze and shrugs her shoulders, though she had already been holding herself in a position to make herself appear smaller. John turns to this, and for a moment an expression of shock falls over his face; he hadn’t known that Susan was failing anything. But soon his resolve settles back in, and he steps in front of Susan, crossing his arms as he glances at Barbara.

“She has been under a lot of stress lately, you know, and this isn’t helping,” he reprimands, then shakes his head, “No matter. I will see to it that she does better at her new school.”

“New school?” John spins around at Susan’s voice and his mouth opens slightly at her sad expression, but he quickly nods his head.

“Yes, yes, a new school, my dear child,” he confirms, patting Susan on the shoulder. He then looks to Ian and Barbara with an icy glare before meeting her eyes again. “Put yourself in their place. They are bound to make some sort of a complaint to the authorities, or at the very least talk to their friends. No, no, we must leave. We were talking about it already, weren’t we?”

Susan swallows, and slowly nods, looking to the ground. She doesn’t want to go, but what choice does she have? She looks over John’s shoulders at the teachers, “Yes, I suppose we must.”

“We will start packing as soon as they leave. I’m sorry, the outfit is very cute, but you’ll have to change it, my dear. And-”

“If I may,” Ian starts, clearing his throat with a raised finger. John turns toward him and Susan almost smiles for the interruption from the thought of having to leave. “If you could maybe just explain what’s going on, you won’t have to leave. We can talk this out, can’t we?”

The Doctor shakes his head before Susan even has a chance to respond, eager to cut off any of Ian’s ideas. “Bah, you’ve seen what you’ve seen, and I know that’s enough for you to go running your mouths.”

“No, really,” Barbara pleads, then looking directly at Susan, “Come on, Susan. You know that we just want to understand. No judgements. We’ll just hear you out, and then we will leave and you can do as you please.”

“No, no, none of this!” John starts, waving his arms and going to forcibly herd the teachers toward the exit, but Susan reaches out and lightly taps his arm.

As soon as he turns to face her she grabs her own arms in a bit of a nervous gesture, obviously not used to disagreeing with her grandfather. But she knows Ian and Barbara well enough, and she trusts them. Trusts them enough to explain why she has been doing so horribly lately before she has to pack everything up and move away. “Please, grandfather. We can make them go away, but I need to talk to them first.”

“Susan-”

“Please, Coal Hill might not have been great, but Miss Wright and Mister Chesterton haven’t ever done anything wrong.”

“Might not have been ‘great,’” John sarcastically quotes, alluding to some sort of problem with the school that even the teachers don’t know about. But he finally throws his head back and steps to the side, falling into the dusty recliner. “Fine, but make it quick. You know I don’t like entertaining guests, Susan.”

Susan nods, allowing a small smile even though her hands shake nervously. Gesturing toward the couch, she watches as the two sit down beside each other before sitting at the very end.

There is a moment spent in silence, neither Susan nor the teachers seeming to want to start the conversation. The only noise comes from John, who has found a pipe and is currently trying to light it. But, finally, Ian chimes in. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he looks around Barbara at Susan.

“So…  _ Susan _ ,” he starts awkwardly, obviously hesitant for fear of saying something wrong. He eyes John before meeting Susan’s eyes again and continuing. “Why ‘Susan?’ Is this a… crossdressing thing?” Yes, yes, he has heard about that on the news. Men going out as women. He hasn’t really had much of a problem with it, it doesn’t affect him.

“Yes,” Susan starts quickly, jumping to the edge of her seat, then shakes her head, “Well, no, not truly. It’s more like-” She can’t seem to find the words, struggling with it for a moment before shrugging her shoulders and leaning back into the couch, anxiety at what she is trying to admit taking over already. She supposes that she will have to go on, continue explaining what she means, but luckily Barbara speaks before she has to.

“Do you want to be a girl, Susan?” Barbara asks confidently, steadily meeting her student’s eyes. Ian sounds in a surprised, “Don’t be ridiculous, Barbara,” but neither Barbara nor Susan doesn’t hear him in the background.

Susan swallows, lost for how she is supposed to respond. She simply nods. “Yes.”

Barbara and Susan’s intense gaze is only broken by Ian, who blinks and shakes his head. “What, you want to be a girl? That- That doesn’t make any sense.” He isn’t expecting the angry gaze that Barbara meets him with.

“Doesn’t make sense?” she snaps, her full attention on him, “Makes just as much sense as anything else.” She stops for a moment, looking at her own lap, before continuing her rant. “Nothing makes sense anymore -- that’s a good thing. I’ve seen in the magazines these boys who like other boys, and I think that I might be the same way with girls.”

“What, you like girls  _ exclusively _ ?” Ian asks with wide eyes, as if that is what he was supposed to get out of this exchange.

Barbara squints her eyes, eventually shaking her head. “No. I’m just saying, there’s lots of things we don’t understand, and maybe we ought to give it all the benefit of the doubt. I’m not opposed to it; are you?”

Ian blinks, and his cheeks grow slightly pink. He isn’t often actually scolded by Barbara, and he can’t say that he really likes it. “No, of course not. Just surprised is all.” Opening his mouth to say something more as he hopes to break the silence, he anxiously shrugs and turns to Susan, who has been watching the whole exchange with wide eyes. Somehow she seems to be sitting a bit more straight than before. “Um, so, S- Susan,” he starts, messing with the knees of his pants, “How long have you felt this way? You know -- How long have you thought that you wanted to be a girl?... Or, are a girl.” He needs to stop floundering. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shuts his mouth and both teachers look over at Susan expectantly.

“Oh, um,” Susan begins, fumbling with her own hands. She looks down at her legs as she speaks, though slowly she meets their eyes. “For a while, I suppose… Forever, really. But I never really talked about it.” She shakes her head, clenching her own hands tightly. “Well, I did, when I was younger, but my parents told me not to talk about it anymore.” She looks to the ground now, and though her voice had been anxious before, it sounds downright depressed now. “I told them that I was sure about it a month ago, and that’s when I came to live with my grandfather.”

There is a long pause.

“They kicked you out?” Barbara asks softly, though there is a glint of something in her eyes. Some sort of furious blaze.

“Yes,” Susan nods, speaking quickly as if she wants to glaze over that fact as soon as possible. Suddenly she looks up and meets both of their eyes directly, her voice having a new confidence, though her tone is pleading. “I’m sorry about all the assignments and tests. I’ve just been having a hard time focusing. I really have been trying, but it’s rather dark in here -- and a rat ate my homework. I didn’t want to tell you because I knew it would sound stupid, but it’s true.”

“Psh, we don’t have rats, Susan,” John mutters from behind a newspaper that he has picked up and began to read.

“What do you call the squeaky little gray things?”

“Perhaps they are just small cats.”

Susan can’t help a small laugh as she shakes her head, though she soon looks back at Ian and Barbara with wide eyes. “I’m really very sorry for making you both worried.” She hesitates, looking to her lap again. “Though I suppose it won’t matter now that we’re leaving…” she mumbles.

“Susan,” Barbara whispers, taking the child’s hand in her own and forcing close eye contact, “How is it like living here, with your grandfather? Are you getting along?” She doesn’t want to sound rude, but she adds, “I couldn’t help but notice the other day that you wore the same shirt twice in a row. And all the lights in here seem burnt out, besides the string lights.” And even some of those have gone dim.

The tips of Susan’s ears burn red, and she glances over to John, who doesn’t seem to be listening. Looking back at Barbara, she shrugs. “It’s fine, I suppose. We don’t have a lot of money, but we’ve been doing fine.”

“What does your grandfather do? He said he has a PhD.”

“Oh, he’s an inventor. He’s working on something very big right now.”

Ian puffs out his lips, gesturing over to John. “And what’s his PhD in?”

Susan considers this question with a raised brow, before shrugging. “I don’t know,” she admits, then asking loudly, “Grandfather, what’s your PhD in?”

“I have a PhD in not telling these two strangers my entire life story, Susan.”

“I think it’s engineering,” Susan nods.

“Well,” Barbara continues, “What about your clothes and food and stuff? Do you have enough?”

Hesitating, Susan can’t help but look toward the bedroom as she thinks. Eventually she is forced to respond by the pressure put on her by Barbara’s gaze. “I didn’t have time to grab very many shirts and stuff before I left,” she admits, “But I don’t like those clothes, anyway. They don’t feel right -- Grandfather surprised me with a couple of dresses, and I prefer those… But I can’t wear them to school. The other kids are already mean as it is.” She quickly continues before either of the teachers has a chance to respond to that last statement. “And, well, I have a lot of cereal. Oh, and bread!”

“That’s it?” Barbara asks nervously.

“Don’t forget the canned sardines, Susan,” John mutters, looking at her over the top of the newspaper.

“Oh, yes, we also have sardines,” Susan admits, then, leaning forward, whispers, “But I don’t really like to eat them. I think that they’re gross.”

“I don’t blame you,” Ian agrees.

Barbara doesn’t seem to consider all the sardine talk. She is worried, and rightfully so. She had known that something was up with Susan, but she hadn’t expected it to be all this. She hadn’t expected Susan to be so poorly off. And it isn’t John’s fault, she recognizes -- he is doing the best he can, considering that he wasn’t planning on having his granddaughter live with him. He seems to be taking it rather well, at least -- but is she just going to allow them to move away and repeat this all over again in a different city? No. No, she won’t stand for it.

“Doctor!” she exclaims, standing up and approaching his chair. Susan scrunches her nose; she has never heard anyone call her grandfather that. “You can’t just move away. -- It’s not right.”

John doesn’t look up as she talks, finishing the paragraph that he had been reading before laying the newspaper down in his lap. Pulling his reading glasses down his nose, he looks up at Barbara and raises his brows. “And what do  _ you  _ suppose we do, young lady?” he asks, though his tone indicates that he isn’t actually going to listen to any of her suggestions, “We’re in a bit of a bind, I’m afraid. We wouldn’t be, were it not for you two, but, ah, that’s life.” He then looks over at Susan, and his voice is stern. “Show these people out, Susan. I’ve had quite enough. You’ve answered their questions.”

Susan hesitates, unsure of what to do, but, just as she is about to relent and stand up to show them out, Barbara shakes her head and crosses her arms. She looms over John, and, though he doesn’t seem worried about it, she glares down at him. “We’ll talk about it like adults and maybe we can work something out,” Barbara nods, then returning to Susan once she is sure that she is holding John’s attention. Looking down at her softly as Susan looks up, Barbara is resolute. “You can’t be so unwilling to negotiate -- Look, it is obvious that Susan doesn’t want to leave, and it isn’t right for you to make her.” Sitting down beside Susan, Barbara holds her hands.

Finally John stands up. It is a slow rise, and John makes sure to fold his newspaper and set it down on the chair behind him just to showcase how much of an inconvenience this is. He stares at Barbara for a few moments (though she only glares back) before finally barking, “I want you out, both of you!” His calm rise has now given way to heated gestures. “You have already done enough harm -- Out!”

Moving to the edge of his seat, about to stand up, Ian raises a hand cautiously. “Doctor, maybe if you just hear us out, it-” He recoils as John snaps at him.

“No! Out this instance!” Stepping forward, he grabs Barbara’s sleeve, pulling her slightly away from Susan, who has shrunk against the couch at her grandfather’s outburst.

However, Barbara shoves his hand off of her, and stands up herself. They are just about the same height, and extremely close to each other. “You will hear us out. We are here to help-”

“No, no. Get out, I say! Go!”

“We followed Susan here because we were worried,” she continues, and though she is angry, she tries to hold a steady, calm tone, “And I’m still worried. Just hear us out -- Or hear Susan out; you haven’t even asked her what she wants.” Susan squeaks nervously at that, but John speaks before she is forced to say anything.

“Oh, she’s just a child; she doesn’t know what’s best for herself,” he shakes his head, not sparing a glance over. He loves Susan -- that much is extremely obvious -- but he is headstrong. Ian, who is watching from an even further distance than Susan, recognizes the tense situation, but he can’t help but note to himself with some wonder that Susan shares that same headstrong nature. She has corrected him during his lecture on more than one occasion; she doesn’t really care if he is embarrassed about it or not. “And if I let her stay, what then?” John continues, raising a brow as if proud of himself for the rebuttal, “We have to deal with you, and you don’t know half of what goes on in that school. Rent is too expensive anyway; bah! We will find someplace better, won’t we, Susan?”

“Oh, um.” Susan can’t seem to bring herself to verbally agree, but she nods.

Barbara pauses before she gives any sort of angry response. She breathes in, then turns back to Susan. Kneeling down, she gently grabs the girl’s hands and looks her in the eyes. Speaking softly, she doesn’t really care to make herself heard by John, who seems just about to pop a vein.

“Susan…” she starts, and Susan swallows. For the moment it feels like only Barbara and this conversation exist; Susan manages to forget her grandfather’s anger as she listens to Barbara intently. She even leans forward slightly as Barbara squeezes her hand. “How about you come stay with me for a while? You don’t have to leave; there are options. And I’d love to have you stay-”

“Don’t listen to her, Susan!” John interjects, “This is their fault, anyway. No one was supposed to know; we have to-”

“Doctor.” Unlike John, Barbara is no longer at her wit’s end. In fact, her expression is calm and resolute as she stands up and turns to him. “I know that you are doing everything you can for her, and it is your decision to make, as her grandfather. But Ian and I would never do anything to hurt her -- we wouldn’t have come here if we wanted to do that.”

John shakes his head, drumming his fingers on his arms before rounding Barbara to stand next to Susan. He doesn’t sound angry anymore, but he shakes his head nonetheless. “Why do you suppose she should stay with you, hm? What good will that do? You think you know more about what my granddaughter needs than I do, do you? Bah! You don’t even know what’s happening in your own school, what with the bullies and all. Too busy following one girl home and wreaking havoc to pay attention to anything else.”

_ You didn’t know about the homework _ , Ian thinks grumpily, though he doesn’t voice this. While he is willing to defend Barbara in an instant, this is her cause. He will only help when she needs it.

“You’re right,” Barbara allows, “but we can help now that we know about it. A teenage girl needs some stability in her life and I can help with that. -- And, Doctor, I know that you are doing everything you can, but look around. Is it just going to be like this in another city? I don’t know what you do for a living, and I know that you took Susan in because you love her, but is this what is best for her right now?”

John considers this; really considers it for a moment. But, just as Barbara feared, he waves a hand, looking down at Susan. “No, no; I don’t trust these people, Susan. They-”

“I do.”

John is caught off-guard, Susan standing up as he tries to think of a response. Gently she grabs his arms, raising her brows as she glances at Ian and Barbara before looking back at her grandfather.

“I don’t want to leave the school, grandfather,” Susan says confidently, yet soft enough that it doesn’t seem aggressive, “I love you, and I know you said that I can stay with you for as long as I want, but I’ve seen the bills, and-”

“That’s not a problem, Susan.”

“Yes, well, it won’t be for a long time. Just long enough for everything to settle down -- And I won’t be far away… My whole life is here, grandfather, you know that.”

“How do you know these people won’t tell someone, hm, Susan?” he asks, though his sarcastic belittling tone is lost under a blanket of worry, “How do you know they aren’t just going to get you in trouble?”

“We won’t,” Ian finally pitches in, standing up and crossing over to Barbara. He is firm in his speech. “There’s no reason for us to. We came because we were worried about our student, and all we want to do is help her. It’s not the fact that she is a girl that’s the problem; it’s that she hasn’t been doing her homework, and she doesn’t have much food. If she stays with Barbara, she can have some stability and you can have some time to figure out your situation better for when she comes back.”

“She’s your granddaughter, Doctor,” Barbara adds, “It is your choice.” The ‘but…’ is left unsaid.

John doesn’t respond for several moments. Looking at Barbara and Ian with his jaw slightly lowered, he looks back at Susan with wide eyes. Shifting so instead it is him holding her shoulder, he asks, “Is this really what you want to do, Susan?”

“Yes.”

“But what if something happens?” He isn’t about to voice all of his concerns -- especially not in front of the two strangers who broke into his house -- but, really, everything is a concern. He doesn’t want his granddaughter out of his reach ever again; look what happened the last time. He had been woken up at two a.m. by her knocking, sobbed tears mingled with the rain. All she had was whatever she had been able to grab before she had to leave. He doesn’t like to think about that, it hurts his heart. So of course he tried his hardest; this place wasn’t meant for the two of them, but he thought he was making it work. Sure, sometimes they had to eat moldy bread but at least she was happy when home. “You can’t just trust everyone.”

And Susan knows that he is right. She doesn’t know how long he has been closed-off like this for, but he is right. He knows more than she does; he has been there to comfort her everytime she misplaced her trust in someone. Yet she’s not like him; despite everything that has happened, she still wants to open up to people.

“Then just trust  _ me _ ,” she answers, and slowly she pulls away from him. However, instead of stepping away, she leans in and gives John a big hug, one that catches him off-guard. “I love you, grandfather.”

Having been surprised, he just allows her to hold onto him for a moment, before he finally wraps his arms around her. Patting her back gently, he closes his eyes as he speaks. “I- I love you too, Susan.” Then he looks over her at Barbara and Ian. “You have to take care of her. If I hear even one thing-”

“Of course,” Barbara nods, “We won’t be far away. It’s just a couple minutes drive from the school; you can come visit whenever you please.”

And finally Susan lets go of her grandfather. Holding his hand for only a moment, she steps back to Barbara, looking up at her.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Barbara says, “I promise she will be fine.”

“She better.” He just wants what is best for his granddaughter. And maybe Barbara Wright and Ian Chesterton are it.


End file.
